


walk beside me, love

by thesarcasticone



Series: all i've ever known [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Feelings, Slow Burn, back to the riverlands we go, confession time, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesarcasticone/pseuds/thesarcasticone
Summary: She shouldn’t have uttered such denouncement, but Brienne found herself in a condition and circumstance on which she had never received proper education or instruction on the proper way to proceed. How did one try and conceal such tangible and strong feelings of love towards a Knight who not only loved another, but had also sworn to never love at all -who was forbidden to do so?He should have never followed her out of King’s Landing.Or: Jaime follows Brienne out of King's Landing. Both think themselves unworthy. Jaime is nervous. Brienne is pensive. Confessions are made and the world around them disappears.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: all i've ever known [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511672
Comments: 18
Kudos: 111





	walk beside me, love

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like a failure because I haven't posted anything in so long. I wanted this up last week, but the Holidays and my work life has kept me busy. 
> 
> As always, the AU-card is played. 
> 
> Bit of a quick background: this one takes place a couple of months after the last one. I skipped over King's Landing and Jaime's encounter with both his sister and his father. Basically Jaime does get and accepts Oathkeeper from Tywin, after he is informed his sister has managed to strip him of his whitecloak in punishment for not having been present during Joff's murder and the obvious connection and affection she could sense between him and the maid of Tarth (lets remember Cersei isn't the cleverest of people). Brienne isn't imprisioned, but cooly welcomed into the castle. Regardless of being constantly summoned to the queen's chambers and activities, she remains by Jaime's side. Cersei's plans for Brienne never come through, but they mainly consisted of sending the maid back home with a husband and keeping her as far away from her borther as possible. 
> 
> Tommen is King, Tyrion has been imprisioned, Sansa is missing and Tywin lives on. 
> 
> Anyway, as always mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Title from Promises from Hadestown.

The days now felt colder. The air carried a slight chill it hadn’t before, and the sun continued to set earlier and earlier each day. The Stark words prominently rang inside Brienne’s brain as they trod deeper and deeper into the Riverlands; leaving the Crownlands, King’s Landing and the Red Keep behind. 

Winter was coming. 

Brienne pondered on, as she steadily trotted her horse behind Jaime’s own steed, appreciating the given solitary time to think and clear a much muddled head. 

Her memories were vibrant and present, memories of days and nights which had been spent underneath late summer skies; two wounded and exhausted warriors who had sought to find comfort in each other when the world appeared to have been spinning out of their control. 

How long ago did those nights seem to have been, yet not even half a year had gone by?

Nights when the stars had looked down on the curious sight of two akin souls huddled close for warmth and seeking a comfort long denied to both; both resisting the urge to hold on to the other with unrestrained devotion. 

If Brienne concentrated hard enough, she could still feel him, pressed tightly against her body, his frame smaller than her own but engulfing her in a way she had never thought possible to experience. 

_ Stop it.  _

Dangerous thoughts which had been slowly brewing inside her brain ever since she had pressenced the Dothraki, Zollo, swiftly run his akrah across Jaime’s wrist. Thoughts which she would have once felt ecstatic for encountering, now caused her turmoil and heartache. For twenty years she had never thought finding love would be possible; the precious feeling having been one she had been witness to, and had decidedly believed it out of the reach of someone like her to ever experience. 

Now, Brienne found herself the jest of her own thoughts, with an ardent and profound love being harbored towards the one person she knew would never - _ could never _ \- reciprocate such feelings. 

For months she had been falling asleep cursing her own sentimental heart and his stubborn insistence of remaining constantly by her side. 

_ ‘We made that promise together. Please don’t condemn me to break another vow. I am trying to do better -to  _ be _ better, and finding Sansa Stark may be my last chance.’ _

_ ‘But your King-’ The word son was left unspoken, but rang loud and clear inside the room.  _

_ ‘Are you deliberately trying to force me to stay? Has being in my presence become so irksome to you? Brienne, we know each other too well to tell half truths.’ _

_ ‘You yearned for King’s Landing through most of our journey-’ _

_ ‘I yearned for rest, Brienne; and for a warm bed and a proper bath. I’ve already made up my mind, and I am not letting you roam around the Riverlands on your own. We fight better together, we always have. Besides, I find myself in need of someone to help build up my strength in this miserable excuse of a sword arm I have been left with.’ _

He should have stayed in the capital, safe behind red walls, and inside his sister’s warm bed; not riding beside her, smiling at her, making her squirm and blush and being a constant reminder of how even if she had given her love to him -he was a sworn brother of the Kingsgaurd. Not to mention the most beautiful man Brienne had ever met. 

She was nothing compared to him. 

As Jaime came to a sudden halt, Brienne followed suit; her eyes scrunching up in confusion. The sun had not yet finished setting, and there was still sufficient daylight for their journey to continue on for a couple of more hours before nightfall would force them to stop riding for the day.

“Jaime?”

“You've been eerily quiet, my Lady. I could practically hear you thinking.”

_ No, you couldn’t, or you would have already run off back to your sister. _

“I highly doubt that to be the case. We talked through most of the morning, most of it for your own amusement. I even consented with sharing the story of how I found my father had been keeping his companions a secret from me, for years. Have I not inconvenienced you enough for a day?”

Jaime bit the inside of his cheek in order to stop himself from immediately responding to her question with the amount of defense he felt brewing inside him every time she mentioned something which only served to depreciate her person. She had been strangely melancholic ever since they had left the capital, her eyes sad and far more thoughtful than Jaime had ever seen them. 

Not even when they had first traveled the Riverlands, when both had been wounded and more than emotionally scarred, had she ever retreated so into herself.

Jaime scarcely remembered their last voyage; days and nights muddled together in fevered visions and depressing thoughts. 

Even so, there was one thing above everything which he seemed to have no trouble recalling: her eyes; gentle, blue, loving orbs which had reflected his own pain back at him. He had spent most of the trip gratefully succumbing to his fever simply so his thoughts wouldn’t linger on Brienne’s eyes, on her lips, on her gentle smiles and touches, and the loving way she would hold him close each night. 

Gentle touches, meaningful embraces which neither had been brave enough to admit the real significance of. 

Jaime was certain her well kept restraint had almost broken during one night, as her hand had brushed his curls back when she had been thinking him asleep; an action she had taken to doing ever since they had left the dreaded castle of Harrenhal and the bloody mummers behind. Her lips had moved, her chest had expanded as she had taken in a deeper breath, her blue eyes lovingly lingering over his blinking face. A noise had startled her into silence, a horse’s neigh which had rung loud and clear, making her previous actions decease and her attention divert towards the skittish beast.

There had been a love etched in their actions and their words which had laced their days as they had traveled; a fine line in which they had both danced, neither having dared to cross boundaries for distinctive reasons. 

Their odd arrangement had ended when they had finally reached the capital, the Red Keep, and the bustling whirlwind which the royal court entailed. 

“Your silence bothers me, Brienne. I had to practically force you to speak today. You’ve been getting quieter the deeper into the Riverlands we get.”

“They don’t exactly hold precious memories.”

That they did not. But neither did King’s Landing -for either of them. 

Jaime could still see the way her eyes had welled up with unshed tears which were never allowed to fall, as she had gotten mockingly paraded in front of the Queen. His sister’s insults had been tamer than Jaime would have imagined, but they had both been left too vulnerable and emotionally compromised to have been able to tolerate even the barest of graces. 

Jaime could still see his father’s judgmental glance as he had offered him the Valyrian blade he now carried to his right. It had been a riddiculizing gesture which Jaime had only accepted with the hope of one day convincing the woman in front of him to wield it in his stance. 

“That can’t be everything. Don’t hide, not from me.”

Why did he always have to make trying to cease from loving him such a difficult feat? It had been the easiest thing to do, to lose herself in the consuming feeling of  _ loving _ Jaime; once Brienne had opened herself up to the possibility, it had been the most uncomplicated of accomplishments she had ever fulfilled. 

As each day passed, Brienne felt herself getting lost deeper and deeper in her own heart and mind; the possibility of ever surfacing from such a state getting further away from her reach. 

His green eyes found hers as they moved their horses towards a sturdy enough tree trunk to allow them rest. Honest, concencerned and filled with such warmth, Brienne found herself averting such gaze. 

_ If we don’t find Sansa soon, I will end up ruining the only relationship I have ever held dear. _

“Brienne-” he continued, his gaze searching for her fallen eyes. He hadn’t wanted to vex her, but ease her into what would most likely be a strained conversation. Jaime couldn’t remember the last time he had felt as nervous as he found himself in that moment. 

“We can’t afford to waste sunlight, Jaime. Or have you forgotten what occurred last time we allowed ourselves to get careless with our pacing?”

She shouldn’t have uttered such denouncement, but Brienne found herself in a condition and circumstance on which she had never received proper education or instruction on the proper way to proceed. How did one try and conceal such tangible and strong feelings of love towards a Knight who not only loved another, but had also sworn to never love at all -who was  _ forbidden _ to do so? 

He should have never followed her out of King’s Landing. 

“Now I know there’s something bothering you, you’ve insulted me without even  _ looking _ at me. You usually give me one of your glares whenever you call me out on any idiocy.” 

And with a single flinch and a quick gaze she threw towards him, Jaime understood what had taken over his friend for the better part of the afternoon. 

_ Is it me you find so repulsive to love, or my position? Seven hells, I know I’m not worthy, but seeing it reflected in your eyes kills me even more than having lost my hand ever did.  _

The flashes of -regret- came and went, and Jaime felt more than sure they were both subjected to such intrusive thoughts on more occasions than either cared to be. 

“I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Not when you’re right. I should not have made us stop, but I was growing concerned.”

_ Jaime… _

Jaime took a step towards her, his green and emerald like eyes, instantly softening upon landing on her face, almost meticulously gazing over every inch of it. 

Brienne should have felt scrutinized under such intensity. She could almost hear Septa Roelle’s voice sounding in the back of her mind, quipping away every imperfection she could find. But there hadn’t ever been malice in any of Jaime’s almost reverence-like glances. 

“Yet, you’re the one who also stopped talking for almost the same amount of time I was silent.  _ You _ , who when in need, has proven to be very adept at conversing with  _ air _ .”

His half smirk was inevitable, the gentle tease something which thankfully allowed Jame the opportunity to take another step towards her, her frame standing firmly next to her mare, the habitually anxious beast thankfully unaware of Jaime and his upcoming proximity. 

“Yes, but I find I enjoy your curt answers far better than the odd howl and swush the air is so fond of giving me.”

She glared, but Jaime could see her shoulders easing into a clamer stance than they had been. 

_ Don’t hide Brienne, don’t scurry away; allow me this one act of valor.  _

“If I admit that I had been pondering on our last day in King’s Landing would you respond by physically attacking me, or simply continue to ignore me even further?”

She reddened in both anger and embarrassment. She would never understand why he thought the event humorous. 

While the dress had been lovely, and she could admit such a truth to herself, to actually verbalize the fact he had managed to commission a dress made to her specific size and body felt both intrusive and flattering. But the reason for her conflicting emotions regarding the entire exchange still rested on Jaime’s right hip, the golden lion hilt adorning the magnificent and odd colored blade. 

_ ‘I can’t wield a sword. It was meant as an insult, not a gift.’ _

_ ‘You’ve already gifted me with one sword, a beautiful blade which has saved me -and you- on countless occasions. I am not giving it up until I either die or it is properly ripped from my grasp.’ _

_ ‘As beautiful as yours is, this is Valyrian steel, Brienne; even you can’t be so stubborn to refuse such a priceless weapon.’ _

_ ‘That only makes me want to prove such fact to you even more.’ _

Brienne’s mind had been spinning, the air around them had been thick with -something. Their bodies had been close and undeniably agitated; Jaime’s eyes had been glistening with a shine she had never before witnessed in anyone. Her foolish brain had even dared to think it the look of desire, but such thought had been put to rest almost immediately after it had been conceived. 

Although their encounter in the White Sword Tower was not one Jaime would ever be eager to forget; it wasn’t the memory of a flushed Brienne, having been forced to dress in a gown he had commissioned specifically for her, what lingered. No, it was the cool and calculated gaze of one Tywin Lannister what most resonated within Jaime’s mind. 

_ ‘If it’s meant to stay in our house, then you should give it to Tyrion. I have no children.’  _

_ Tywn looked at his eldest with the same gaze which would have once made a young Jaime squirm and try his best to not fault his father, but which now only served to irritate the Knight.  _

_ It didn’t matter if Tywin was well aware about Cersei’s children and their real parentage; to the world, the three golden crowns were of Baratheon descent, and after the doubts and speculations which had already ripped the kingdom apart, they couldn’t risk the truth of the darkness of the Lannisters getting out.  _

_ ‘Not yet.’ _

_ The words chilled Jaime and made his phantom hand tingle and his mind go over to Brienne, as it now always did whenever he sensed a nearby threat.  _

_ ‘Not ever. A Kingsguard swears to never take a wife or father any children. And contrary to what the world relishes in believing, I feel rather fond of trying to stick to my given vows. After all, trust in their veracity is what eventually set me free.’ _

_ ‘Idiocy and recklessness and a bit of luck set you and your companion free. Trust has gotten you nowhere. Joeffrey is dead, died under your time as Lord Commander, as your sister is so keen on reminding us all.’ _

And Jaime had known then, as soon as his sister’s name had fallen from his father’s lips, as soon as Tywin had forcefully set the Valryian blade down in front of him. 

Dismissed of the Kingsgaurd by petition of the Queen Regent under the rule of King Tommen Baratheon First of His Name, and fully endorsed by the current Hand in act, Tywin of House Lannister. 

Cersei had found a way to punish him for having abandoned her, and Tywin had finally reclaimed his eldest as his heir. 

It had been swift and cruel, and a clear reflection of the Lannister’s family legacy and treatment of those who they deemed as inferior. 

Thankfully, Brienne had somehow managed to have been left out of his family’s initial cruelty. Her name had only been mentioned once in the entire conversation between father and son; a casual reference which had not been meant to threaten or alarm, but which had provoked Jaime’s mind to spin and commence making plans.

He had needed Brienne out of King’s Landing, and fast. 

It hadn’t been until he had summoned for her to be brought to the Tower when he had fully comprehended what had just occurred. 

He had been granted a conditioned freedom, but a freedom nevertheless. 

"You think yourself humourous enough to pass for a jester; but I assure you, Ser, your quips cause more discomfort than merriness." 

"Forgive me if I have ever given the impression of  _ jesting _ when I meant to have been serious, my Lady. You know though -you must, and if you don't than I truly am sorry, Brienne; for I hold you in the highest of respects and- and kindness."

Brienne knew him well enough to know his mind had started running on it's own accord, the last word one he had not intended to have uttered. If she had thought his silence odd, his actions ever since he had stopped his horse had been even curiouser. His eyes were soft and inviting, but his voice trembled and his right arm almost twitched with nervous energy. 

"Jaime, we've been traveling for days, my brain is not well rested enough for cryptic messages. I beseech you, if you wish to inform anything to me, please be frank. Haven't we always been so with each other?" 

_ He wishes to turn back. He's finally remembered he longs for his family, his children, his -  _

"We have. And the fact you know I have something on my mind just as I know you have something on yours just reaffirms our bond and kinship." 

Jaime found he had no idea on how to proceed. It was a conversation he had been thinking and planning over for  _ days _ . The remembrance of his father’s cool stare had made Jaime realize he had no real reason to dread his future while Brienne of Tarth remained by his side. Quicker than anything else he had ever decided, Jaime had taken a single look at a blushing, uncomfortable, awkward and amused Brienne as she had come inside the Tower and had felt his heart ache for a future he had never dared to dream before. 

Day and night, everything about Brienne haunted his mind; her voice, her eyes, her frame, her heart. He needed to proceed with caution and diligence. He couldn’t risk losing her love, her companionship, her friendship. 

Brienne was young, and even if they had both found themselves amidst the waters of an inevitable love, Jaime was conscious of what acting out on said emotions and feelings would entail -for both of them. If Jaime hadn’t behaved selfishly, he might have been able to let her go and find herself a young and decent enough Knight to live her life with on her island, and forget about him and his soiled life. 

Blue eyes, inquisitive and calm, steady and honest, proud and unyielding. She was  _ mesmerizing _ , while he was a mere shadow of what he once had been. 

He opened his mouth, but no words managed to come out. He tried three times, but not even a sound was uttered; his thoughts coming at him at such an incredible speed he found himself unable to organize them. What he wanted to say last came first, and things he had never thought he would one day want to voice suddenly wanted nothing else than to escape from his lips. 

“Jaime, don’t stress over the truth. If it’s your wish to return to King’s Landing it is an understandable want. There is no clear path we’re following and the Stark girl could be hiding anywhere. We have no real destination. There is no dishonor if you return to your assigned post, Ser.”

The formality and restrain behind her voice was what finally broke Jaime. 

“Return to King’s Landing? Are you really so daft? I pray, tell me if I have ever given the impression of wanting to go back to that wretched place? I’ve already told you, but I'll repeat it, just in case I didn't make myself clear the first time around.”

Brienne’s breath hitched, suddenly struck by the close proximity they found themselves in; so reminiscent of that last day inside the White Sword Tower. The same fluttering feeling began brewing inside her, the same thirst for action -for movement- echoing in her body. She could feel her blush forming, she could feel her hands twitching, she could feel her throat closing as she tried to control a sudden rush of unwanted tears. 

“There is no place in the entire realm I would rather be, than by  _ your _ side.”

“Jaime…”

“My son sits the Iron Throne. My sister has lied to me throughout most of my life. My brother stands accused of murder while his wife has gone missing. I can’t fight to defend my own life, let alone the King's. My father has stripped me of my white cloak and given vows. The world has gone mad, and yet the only bloody thing that still makes sense, that still holds  _ true _ -is you.”

Brienne took a step back, eyes wide as she tried to not let herself fall or trip or run. 

Her body stood taller than his, her back still as straight as it ever was, her eyes taking Jaime in with such precision, the old Knight felt as if his soul was being torn open by such a stare. 

“I have thought of a thousand ways to tell you this. I’ve gone over it a thousand more. Half of the time I'm convinced I’m mad, the other half I think there isn’t a more clever or fortunate man in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Jaime-”

“No, please. If I don’t finish, it will take me at least another fortnight to gather enough courage to do this.”

“I’m sorry.”

His face fell, quicker than Brienne had ever seen it fall, but she did not dare stop; because if she did,  _ she _ would need another lifetime to gather enough courage to continue on. 

“A Kingsgaurd serves for life. There isn’t a viable reason for anyone to strip you of that right, of your honor. You are kind and just and honorable. I’m sorry you’ve been insulted this way.”

_ Out of all I’ve said,  _ that’s _ what you deem most important; my own suffering. Gods, have mercy.  _

“Brienne-”

“No,” she called out, her eyes widening before diverting their gaze from his face; blue orbs now fixed on the ground. “I meant-”

It was a scene reminiscent of their earliest of meetings, back when she had been forced to don dresses and had been learning how to properly wield a sword. 

“You don’t deserve the dishonor, the insult you’ve just been given, and I am sorry for such an act, but- but-”

As she stuttered, Jaime felt something stirring within him he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. Hope brewed inside him, the feeling urging him to reclaim the step he had lost towards her. 

“You’re a Knight, Ser Jaime; a Knight who believes in doing what’s right either for his family or his beliefs. You deserve more than being confined to serve under unjust Kings and Queens; being forced to stand and  _ watch _ when you’ve proven yourself useful both on the battlefield and outside it. You don’t deserve to be left confined to constricting red walls, not when you could do so much more good-”

“With you. When I could continue to remain by your side while doing so?”

Her eyes sprung up towards his own once again, tentative and conflicted emotions in them which Jaime knew were most likely reflected in his own. 

“Brienne…” He called her out of her small trance. 

“You’ve been  _ dismissed _ ?”

He watched the weight of his spoken confession settle within her as she questioned what he had thought would have been her first response upon discovering the fact he had not been wearing his white cloak out of obligation rather than decision. 

“Yes.”

There was no hint of sorrow in his eyes, only a smudge of worry and a hefty dose of anxiety which Brienne had only ever seen present in him right after Harrenhal, when she had dared to kiss his cheek in gratitude. 

“Jaime-”

He startled her by moving his left hand to caress her cheek; his eyes still firmly fixed on her, roaming through her face as if he were studying every inch of her. 

“It’s just me,” he whispered.

“I know,” she breathed out, mimicking his soft tone; her words trembling in the cooler wind. 

_ If it weren’t, you’d be finding yourself short of another hand. _

“You deserve the world, you know that? The entire realm should tremble under your tenacity, your righteousness. There should be altars dedicated to your wonder; your face on every damned sept from here to Ashai. Your name should be a blessing to utter and your love given to someone worthy of such loyalty.”

_ Oh, Jaime; you  _ know _ , you’ve known for some time.  _

Brienne had always been a quick study regarding the understanding of her own body; it’s calculated movements, and balance when on the battleground or on a tourney field. She had always been slower to comprehend the intricate ways of men and their relationships with each other and within a society. She had always been good at reading fear and mistrust, weariness and doubt; yet she had never been adept at understanding wit and deception. 

Even with Jaime, whom she considered to be the person in her life she could easier understand, it often became difficult to read into his sly remarks and snark responses. It took Brienne longer than it should have, but she eventually came to understand the apparent reason for her friend’s late distress. 

“And you believe yourself  _ unworthy _ ? You who honors justice above all? Who isn’t afraid of making hard decisions? Of saving thousands of lives, regardless of what said actions could mean for your own life? Who isn’t quick to judge, and manages to give everyone the attention and opportunity they rightfully deserve? You, who practically embodies The Warrior in human form, and emits a generous warmth and almost blinding light capable of brightening up the darkest of circumstances?”

“Don’t- do not name my praises while ignoring my faults; do not glorify my person. I’ve told you-”

“I will gladly stop doing so, when you cease from doing the same to me.”

His hand continued to lightly stroke her cheek, sure and rhythmic movements which served to soothe both ramblings parties; two warriors who did not know how to proceed on such waters. 

“You- you deserve someone worthy of you, someone who will be able to help you  _ thrive _ .”

“You deserve to be loved by someone beautiful and loving, delicate and kind.”

A tear fell, a single traitorous drop which Brienne could not force herself to control as her mind spun with a thousand thoughts, as her heart thumped with excitement, as her stomach flipped in anxiety, as her eyes blinked in incredulousness.

“I don’t. But you are all you mentioned, Brienne; and so much  _ more _ .”

“Don’t-”

“I’ve never mocked you, my Lady; never have and I  _ vow _ to never do.”

The intensity behind his words made Brienne come to the realization of the depthness of his sudden confession and the  _ absurdity _ their conversation had become. He couldn’t mean that which Brienne desperately longed for, he  _ couldn’t _ . It somehow did not matter if she could finally read every emotion behind his eyes. They couldn’t be  _ real _ . 

“Jaime, you can’t possibly mean-”

How could she  _ see _ it, yet not  _ believe _ it? 

“Stubborn girl, can’t you tell I’ve been itching to kiss you ever since you helped me bathe near Maidenpool, and been aching to confess my love for you ever since you kissed my cheek after Harrenahl?”

Brienne went red, blue eyes wide, heart erratic. Her hands twitched as she itched to touch him, to somehow prove to herself she wasn’t dreaming the entire exchange as she had been prone to doing so in recent days. 

His forehead came to touch hers; his eyes still open and inviting.

“It only took me the time in which you made your way towards the White Sword Tower to realize my father had granted me with the opportunity to do what I had been dying to so ever since we had arrived at the capital.”

“Jaime…”

“I’m old, soiled, crippeled, but I’m yours -completely. I’ve been yours for a long time, Brienne.”

He was the warmth in winter, the sun to her nights, the one constant in her life she had somehow always understood and found herself never wanting to depart from. 

“You love me? You love  _ me _ ?” It was a whispered question, one filled with such incredulence it pained Jaime to hear, even if fully aware of her tendency to believe herself undeserving of such pure and honest emotions. 

“Fiercely.”

Her lips on his were a surprise to both parties, both widening their eyes upon sensing the warmth of the other’s mouth. 

Jaime did not waste time and used his right arm to keep her close against his body, as his left hand continued to gently cradle and caress her face, slowly dipping down to rest behind her neck.

Brienne’s eyes remained open as she tried to process her sudden actions. It had been an impulse she hadn’t been able to control, an act she had no idea how to proceed in. 

Thankfully, they had always been able to read each other well, and had always been deft at playing against each other’s subtle moves and tones. So she relaxed against him once she realized he had not startled away but had indeed pulled her closer. She finally allowed her arms to rest atop his own, the tangible evidence she had needed of the reality around her. 

She was quick to learn and follow his lead; clumsily at first, but gaining confidence in each movement as she heard him give out subtle and unrestrained moans against her. 

“Mine,” she whispered out as they broke their kiss, eyes glistening with tears which she now freely allowed to fall down her dirtied cheeks. 

“If you’ll have me.”

“How can you doubt my affections? If you’ve been mine for a long time, then I’ve been yours for even longer. I wish I could accurately tell you when it was I began loving you, but I fear that even I can’t seem to be able to recall the beginning, only the middle.”

He kissed her again, quick and free and relishing the fact he could do so without restraint or hesitation. 

“You love me.  _ How _ can you possibly love me?”

She finally reached for him as she had been longing to do so, her hand mirroring his own previous actions, capturing his face in a delicate caress as she brought her own forehead down to meet his. 

“With my entire soul.”

She heard his breath hitch, his green eyes opening and revealing a wonderment she had never thought to see reflected back at her. 

“Mine?” He questioned, a longing and desperation Jaime would have never thought to ever find lacing his tone. 

“Yours, always.”

He took her lips in his, softer than before, a languid kiss which he guided her through. He took the given opportunity to deeply explore every inch of her mouth, every twitch her body gave, every small whimper she allowed to escape. 

He hadn’t even properly explained the complete predicament he found himself in and the repercussions it could have; how he had been released from his vows with the expectation of eventually returning home to reclaim the Rock, with the expectation of eventually marrying and producing a Lannister heir worthy of Tywin’s interest. 

He hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to truly confess the extent of his profound emotions. He hadn’t told her how he wanted her, in his bed, in his life, in his home, in his mind, in his soul. How he would gladly become her husband and follow her around the entire Seven Kingdoms if it were to be her wish; or how he would stay in bed for eternity if it pleased her. He was at her mercy if only she allowed him to remain near her. 

It felt as if it were the culmination of a journey Brienne still held no clear notion of when it had begun, but which’s end was as inevitable as night is to day. The warmth and love she had dared to vanquish from the possibilities of her future, both now present in her life; engulfing her and making her feel dizzier and lighter than any cup of wine could ever attempt to accomplish. 

There were still questions running through her head, but which’s words kept escaping her mind as she continued to feel the soft graze of his lips on hers, his gentle hand caressing her face, his warm arm circling her body. 

“We need to find a place to rest,” she called, soft and breathy and in a voice which she had never heard herself use. “Or attempt to rest. We’ve wasted away what little had remained of the day.”

Her grin was not pretty, but it radiated a luminescence which could have brightened up dusk all on its own. To Jaime, such a grin appeared to be one of the most beautiful he had ever witnessed.

“Wasted would not be the word I would use, my Lady.”

“We’ve kissed it away, then; nevertheless, we should begin our search for a good place to sleep for the night. We both made the promise to find Sansa Stark and keep her safe, and we both need the rest if we wish to fulfill said promise.”

It was a question hidden between a soft smile and teasing eyes. Still refusing to completely let go of her, Jaime used his arm to flush his love against him, enjoying how even with the dull lighting he could still appreciate her give a small blush. 

“On said fact you will not find an argument given from this old Knight.”

Her grin was mesmerizing and freely given and the most beautiful of smiles the young Lady had ever given in his presence. It made Jaime give her a quick kiss on her cheek, startling her with the freedom of the given act; enjoying how she didn’t flinch away, but leaned towards him. 

“There are so many things I find myself desperate to tell you.”

“Of said fact I hold no doubt, you do enjoy the sound of your own voice.”

“I will pretend to be offended by such a statement.”

“And I will pretend to not fear for the conversations ahead.”

“There is no need to pretend, my Lady. There is nothing to fear.”

_ Well, there's still my father’s lingering presence and hand in all of this.  _

“My love is real, Brienne. Please do not doubt it.”

She didn’t, she had never doubted his word before, and she had no reason to begin doing so now -even if the entire situation felt surreal.

“As is mine.”

Her honesty was palpable, and the relief Jaime felt within him was unexpected. 

She loved him. He loved her. 

In the midst of all the destruction, deception and death, their love had been found and nurtured. The one good and  _ real _ thing both had been blessed to encounter, and which both swore to never allow to get torn away from them. 

**Author's Note:**

> There's still a bit more to go. 
> 
> As aways, thank you to everyone who reads, leaves comments or kudos.


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